❝Maybe there's a whole bunch of impossible people waiting for me out there. Waiting to make me feel that same uncertainty again and again.❞
Allison Romero has never had any luck when it comes to finding love, or maintaining friends...or just about...
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35: CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
THE NEXT morning, I'm awoken by the sound of pots and pans clanging. That must be Ethan making breakfast. I check the time on my phone to see that it's eight in the morning. I roll over and stare at the ceiling for five minutes before a knock on the door draws my out of my reverie.
"Come in."
Ethan walks into the room and stares at me for a while. He's freshly showered and attired in his school uniform. He seats himself on the edge of the bed and looks at me. "You coming to school today?"
I shake my head.
"Come on," he says softly. "You have to get up."
"I don't want to talk," I whisper and stare ahead at the wall.
"At least come for your friends. They're worried about you."
A scoff falls from my mouth. "What friends?" As far as I'm concerned, nobody cares enough about me to consider me a friend.
"Crystal, Makayla, Phoebe..." he trails off and lifts his shoulders in a half shrug. He proffers a sheepish smile and, "Me."
"I don't feel like coming today. Maybe tomorrow," I mumble into the pillow. I've been feeling nauseous all weekend, and the thought of seeing them again made me feel like throwing up or crying or both.
"Look, I know this isn't what you want to hear right now but I think you should tell your parents. At least your mum?" He grimaces to punctuate his sentence.
I offer a wry smile. "She won't even leave the guy who raped her. You'd think she'd care about her daughter that was a product of that incident? Not a chance in hell," I mumble.
His forehead creases in a frown. The room is silent for a bit, before he says, "You should get something to eat."
"I don't feel like eating."
"I leftmy card on the counter," he goes on to say. "You can go out and treat yourself to a nice breakfast. You know, there's a nice restaurant down on Avenue Lane. They serve these pancakes and you can get whatever topping you want. I personally like the Nutella—,"
I cut off his nonsensical blabbering. "I don't feel like going out," I say in a quiet voice.
He swallows and looks away. "Well, then, you can just get Uber Eats. Would you prefer that?" He glances at me and I nod.
He starts to rifle through his pants pockets. He retrieves the silver necklace he once gave to me in his palm. When he sees the scowl on my face, he says, "I want you to have this back." He reaches underneath my pillow and stuffs it there. "It looks better on you, anyway."
